There's nothing more exciting than a first year running event. I remember years ago, when I created and directed a 50km race in Utah, (when my husband and I were stationed at Edwards AFB, CA, no less) the weather was supposed to be divine. Months before the race, I would anxiously look at weather data, records, and averages for the end of October in Goblin Valley Utah. The chances of rain and snow for that area were slim. When the two week forecast became available, I would look at the weather forecast several times a day...again, everything looked fine. Until a week before the race. Until I began to load things up in our truck. Until the night before the race. Which was run primarily on dirt roads largely composed on clay.
Naturally, it began to rain that evening. Then it began to rain even harder. Then it became a downpour. Thunder, lightening, snow in the higher elevations. "This rarely happens" I was told by the locals. Right. Only the night before race day. A first time event, put on out in the middle of nowhere, where no race had ever been before, by a first time race director. Visions of my race course being washed away swirled in my head. My little, bright, cheery orange course marking ribbons, used to mark the course with love, all helplessly swept away...all the way to New Mexico, or whatever state is under Utah.
3 am the next morning my husband and I drove out to Goblin Valley State Park. A bright green fireball blazed overhead, lighting up the whole starry sky. Starry!!!! Sky!!!! Stars meant I could see the sky, hence no storm clouds. ( am I smart or what?)The storm had passed, but would my course still be viable, given aid station supplies had to be driven on the dirt road? The sheriff's department, along with search and rescue, had spent the night in the park. Those guys were awesome, and knew every inch of the area like the back of their hand, which was a good thing, given my husband and I have only driven out there once before the race, and had completely planned the whole thing from Edwards AFB). Some of the volunteers who were manning the aid station had camped overnight. ( I was over an hour away in Green River, the nearest town, manning packet pick-up, and training the volunteers, most of who never ran a race before, much less manned an aid station. They were awesome....) Were they swept away too, along with my happy little course markings? Sheriff Lamar got on the satellite phone, ( no cell phones worked there, it was that remote) and put all my fears to rest. Everyone was OK. And he got his men to scout the course, to make sure it didn't get washed away from a flash flood. but we wouldn't know if we had a course until they reached the turnaround point, which was 15 miles away.
In the meantime, the runners began to arrive. A new crescent moon shined over the dim outline of the hoodoos, and Venus sparkled right over them. Absolutely breath taking. We still were fumbling around in headlamps to get things in order, but one by one, 88 runners made it to the start. Now all there was to do was wait until the Sheriff and his men said everything was good to go with the course. No pressure.
All these people, all these precious lives, from all over the country, had flown in to run my race. They'd spent a lot of money, took time off work, away from family. and now I didn't know if they had the course I promised them.( an alternate course on the road was planned, just in case)I had even had friends from CA and CO and SLC drive all the way to this little remote spot on the globe to help me volunteer and keep my sanity. But all we could do was wait until we got the go ahead that it was safe.
15 minutes after 8 am. No word. the race was supposed to start at 8 am. People are getting antsy. I am getting antsy. Did I mention we were all getting antsy? But all we could do was wait. But if you have to stand around and wait, Goblin Valley Utah is an amazing place to do it. I could hear lots of cameras going off, and the runners were just amazing. Nobody complained about the wait, or the potentially slippery conditions with shoe sucking mud. Everyone was happy and supportive, and understood. That is one of the things I love about running: the can-do, gracious spirit of all the runners.
Finally, Sheriff Lamar calls me on the satellite phone. Not only was I secretly proud of myself for being able to operate a piece of technology with lots of buttons, but he said the course was just fine! With the stroke of a gong, (yes, I brought my gong....spiritual, huh?) the first annual Goblin Valley 50km was off! Everyone finished, and had a nice time.
Although I am no longer the race director of that race, I learned a lot, which I am forever grateful for. Along with my husband and friends, and complete strangers I had never known, and a bunch of positive, can-do runners, with some wild and crazy weather, I had created a race in a place that I had never been to, or knew anybody. And we had a 100% success rate that year.
This year, it looks like we are going to have some potentially crazy cold, snowy weather. Just like before, I have been obsessing about the weather, worrying about volunteers, and the runners and walkers. Just days ago it was calling for 50 degree weather. Then it switched to 40 degrees. Now it has changed to the low 20's with a chance of snow. So wear some layers under those ugly sweaters people! Maybe get some foot traction from the Colorado Running Company on Tejon. You're going there anyway for packet pick-up. Wear a matching ugly scarf, and a crazy hat, (Zeezos has some really good ones AND they have ugly Christmas Sweaters)!). I use those hot wraps around my back during ultras if I am out in the cold at night, and they really help. And we'll see you on race day!
